


It Will Never Not Hurt To Watch You Go

by ElfyDwarf



Series: Gallavich Prompts & One Shots [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Death, Emotional Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfyDwarf/pseuds/ElfyDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian goes to see Mickey after being part of the EMT team who attended the 911 call to the prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Will Never Not Hurt To Watch You Go

**Author's Note:**

> I was hit with pain and wrote it. I'm sorry, this isn't nice. Just a mini fic, drabble, thought... I have a lot of tumblr. I'm ashamed of myself. I cried.  
> Warning: death.

_I’ve got nothing left to live for_  
 _Got no reason yet to die_  
 _But when I’m standing in the gallows_  
 _I’ll be staring at the sky_  
 _Because no matter where they take me_  
 _Death I will survive_  
 _And I will never be forgotten_  
 _With you by my side_  
  
_Cause I don’t need this life_  
 _I just need… (Somebody To Die For - Hurts)_

“He’s been prepped accordingly, Mr Gallagher. So, you can go sit with him until the porter comes,” the nurse said and Ian bobbed his head though he made no move to get up out of the chair in the corridor. His head was still reeling from being on the call to the jail, being the first to see the mess that was Mickey and having to patch the guy up enough to transport him to the hospital. Mickey had been gurgling and choking and seizing on the floor and Ian’s co-medic had had to physically shove Ian through the cell door to snap him out of his shock. At least Mickey was OK now, comfortable and calm. It hadn’t helped Ian’s heart when his phone had rung after Mickey had been sedated.

“ _Mr Ian Gallagher? This is…_ ” Mickey had him down as his next of kin, still, after everything. After a year of no contact, nothing. Ian felt like the biggest cunt going, but still, in Mickey’s hour of need he had only ever wanted the one person he loved and trusted and Ian happened to be his knight first and foremost. And Ian wouldn’t let it be any other way. He would never not love Mickey. It was just the way it had gone, Ian finding someone new to keep him distracted while his souls mate suffered. He couldn’t watch that, see Mickey knowing he was at fault for everything. Mickey understood, had said so when Ian had seen him on a call to prison months before for a stabbing.

“I know, man. I don’t expect you to wait for me really, that’d be selfish of me to fuckin’ ask and it ain’t right,” Mickey had said, “I only asked you to lie so i had somethin’ to keep me goin’, you know? Don’t gotta pretend to me. When i get out, we’ll see, won’t we? Just… You’re my savin’ grace, man. I won’t give up on you, even if we’re just, i dunno, passin’ ‘hello’s and ‘how you doin?’s. I got your back for life, man, you’re family no matter what. ‘Sides, you gave me freedom.”

“I took it away, though,” Ian had said. Mickey had shook his head and smiled, soft and genuine.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

Now Ian sat, staring at his hands, wondering if Mickey still believed that. Ian loved him something fierce, would always love him. You don’t get over anyone you connect with the way the way he did with Mickey. Everyone else? They’re all compared, never good enough, never right. Ian sighed and ran his hands down his shirt front, catching his name-tag and watch and then he stood up and prepared to see Mickey lay in the bed, cleaned and less barbaric looking. Ian was used to seeing some horrific sights on his calls, but he always managed to push passed it and see the patient and not the human. After his initial shock of realizing the patient was Mickey, not a human being, but _Mickey_ , he had shut off his brain and lit up the medic. Everything else after had been routine, no attachment whatsoever, not until he had let the gurney go and left the trauma center to finish his shift. Now he was back, in uniform and off the clock, but Ian the guy, not the medic, the next of kin, and Mickey was _Mickey_ , not a patient, not another face.

“Hey,” Ian whispered as he approached the bed in the quiet of the middle of the night, Mickey tucked in under barely-warm-enough sheets, “Would ask how you’re feeling but I… that’s a stupid question. Not like you can answer me anyway, dead to the world aren’t you, huh?”

Ian smiled softly and sat on the bed, turning his face from Mickey’s bruised, serene one to look down where his feet tented the sheets, wrapping his hands around Mickey’s foot, thumbing it.

“Knew I’d come rescue you, though, didn’t you? Always would, never doubt that,” Ian said, “You always rescued me. Didn’t know it at the time, and it took me a while to realise that. If you hadn’t come into my life, I don’t know that it would be any better, or worse, but there would be a huge fuckin’ hole where my heart is. I’m sorry. Never gonna be able to say that enough, to you, into the night, to the sun, shout it into the wind… I have never regretted anything more in my life. Not you, but what I did. Wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

Ian shifted and turned to look at Mickey, smiling sadly. Never did look any good with bruises on his face. Too pale to carry them off as bad-assly as he thought he did. Ian had always hated seeing any mark on him.

“I hate that I can’t call on you anymore,” Ian’s eyes stung and he didn’t try to hold back the sadness his heart hit him with, thumbing Mickey’s foot still, “You’re out of reach. Always have been though, until you weren’t and then I fuckin’ put you back there. _Why_ did I do that? I don’t even understand why, barely understand anythin’ I do… but you? You always did, somehow. I’m like a million piece puzzle and for a while, I was whole, you know, and then I lost a piece and rather than look for it, I _over_ looked it. You’re my missing puzzle piece. Fuck, _Mickey_ ,” Ian’s voice broke and he sobbed, shifting closer to Mickey’s face to he could look over his cheekbones and straight nose. “True, right, don’t know what you have until it’s gone? I’m never going to be complete again, I know that much, ‘cause I’m a damn mess. I can’t be complete… my piece is always gonna be missing.”

Ian rubbed furiously at his eyes. Mickey couldn’t be his again, no matter how much he wanted it, too much had happened and not enough. Ian got off the bed and looked up as the door opened, the nurse from before coming in quietly.

“I’m sorry. The porter is here to move him,” she said gently, handing Ian a bag of items and clothes, “These are what he had on him and what the prison sent over. You’re his next of kin so they are yours now.”

Ian swallowed; he wasn’t ready for this. Probably wouldn’t be. Ever. Walking away from Mickey was the hardest thing he had ever done before and now it was like he had lead feet and his heart had broken off, latched it’s arteries to Mickey’s wrists, to his chest, looking for home. He took Mickey’s items and twitched them around in the plastic bag in his hands, watching Mickey’s face, wishing he could see that beautiful smile again. Just for him.

“Fuck, this is so goddamn _hard_ ,” Ian breathed, his pitch going up in panic as the porter came in slowly and stood at the foot of the bed, silent. He wouldn’t come back after this, he had no reason to, Mickey wouldn’t be here in a couple of days anyway. Ian nodded and let his tears run, lip shaking as he took Mickey’s hands and stared at the curse glaring up at him, his whole body stinging in alarm. “Adequate. I am so, _so_ sorry I let you down. Again. You’ll be OK though, right? You’ll still have my back? I don’t think I could keep going if that wasn’t true. Mickey,” Ian swallowed a sob and edged closer, stroking inky hair back, smiling when he didn’t meet stiff gel but softness, “Say something?”

Mickey couldn’t speak, obviously, and Ian knew that, eyes trailing over his bandaged throat. Ian smiled wetly and clenched his jaw to keep his emotions in check, though it was the hardest fight he’d had in while, “I have to go now, and you have to go rest but, I want you to know… I will never love anyone, never love them like I love you. I’ll make sure you’re looked after, get you a sleeveless shirt for… Mick, I will never, _never_ forget you. You’ll always be with me, even if you aren’t, for the rest of my life.”

Ian bent to kiss Mickey’s forehead, smoothing his hair and hating that he wasn’t even able to hear a sigh or see bright blue eyes smiling at him. The last time had been a sad, sorry looking smile before Mickey had been ushered away in his orange jumpsuit, out into the yard. Gone. The porter gave a thankful nod as Ian stepped back and let go, for good. Ian followed the bed out into the hall and closed his eyes as the nurse lifted the sheet and draped it over Mickey’s face. Ian turned his back; there was no point in watching now Mickey was gone in all senses, gone from sight, from reality. It hurt when his knees hit the floor and his heart shattered, but it hurt more to know that would be the last time he’d ever see Mickey’s face, touch him. It killed him to know Mickey had known he was there, trying to save him, and had known when Ian had left; he hadn’t just let go of gurney but had had to pry Mickey’s terrified grip from his hand, promise him he’d be back, swore he would. He had just come back too late. _I’m sorry. I’m late_

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry
> 
>  
> 
> On tumblr I am now youknowyoutried ... fuck. I'm sorry.


End file.
